


Moments

by Sirensong04



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cute, Cutesy, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, I Don't Even Know, I Made Myself Cry, Marvel Universe, No Plot/Plotless, Reader Insert, Reader-Insert, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Short & Sweet, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Star-crossed, Stolen Moments, Sweet, Thor (2011) - Freeform, Thor - Freeform, Thor: The Dark World, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unrequited Love, imagine, oneshots, unrelated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-19 17:57:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17006412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirensong04/pseuds/Sirensong04
Summary: I plan on stashing my Thor/reader drabbles here. Most are just fluff and thoughts that I feel show how I see our favorite God of Thunder in imagined scenarios comprised as little moments.





	1. Moment One: Golden

**Author's Note:**

> Moment No. One: Inspired by the idea of dust motes in the sunlight and Thor holding a book.

Golden…

Sometimes that is the only word I can think of to describe him. From the color of his hair to the way he seem to glow beneath the sunlight. And his smile, always his smile. Everything about him has a touch of gold, a glimpse of Midas in a man who claims to be a god, or perhaps it is simply because he is not of this world that he seems so astonishingly heavenly. He belongs among the stars, along with legends and forgotten kings of the past. Not here, not in my study filled with dusty old books and boring brown couches. But something about the scene, the way dust motes dance in the afternoon light peering through half shaded windows, makes it feel so natural, and for a moment I forget that we are worlds apart. Star crossed in the most tragic ways.

He looks at me, with those clear blues of his, a book lying open in the palm of his large hand. I often wonder what he sees when he looks at me, if it’s the vision of a girl lost in her own world of fairytales and books and adventures, or perhaps he sees the one thing he wants more than anything in the world, the one thing he cannot have. He is a prince, and princes do not end up with shy bookish girls, they usually just come over for coffee, at least, that’s what he does. 

He talks of other worlds because he knows I adore the stories, allows me to see the universe through his eyes. Sometimes he mentions Jane, but lately he talks of her less and less and I don’t mind. We sit beside each other on his favorite leather couch, the only one that caters to his impossibly built frame, shoulder to shoulder and sunbeams blind me and his eyes are flecked with gold. His hair is longer now too, running past his collar in waves of honey and sunshine. Sometimes I don’t think he is aware of just how beautiful he is, Handsome yes, I’m sure he knows, but beautiful is a word he probably doesn’t ever think to associate with himself. But I see it, the warmth in his tiny smiles, the ones that are unbidden and unguarded. The gentle care in which he holds the books he knows I cherish despite the strength within the cords of his muscle bound arms. The way he looks at me when I get carried away with my words and stories and I can’t stop talking despite the lack of air in my lungs because he’s there and so close and he smells like winter trees and the air just before a perfect storm. I like to pretend I am not lost to him, that I am not free falling into an abyss of longing and unrequited feelings. He doesn’t notice. 

Then, just before he takes his leave, he kisses my hand and bids me farewell. I wonder if his lips would feel the same as they do against my hand if it were my lips he kissed instead, and I’m glad he can’t read my thoughts because I’d be too embarrassed to admit how much I long for him. He promises to visit again but he never tells me when exactly. He disappears with a crack of lightning and thunder and flashing rainbow lights, and I am left standing on my front porch, alone in the hazy afternoon light on a Thursday. I pretend I don’t miss him the moment he leaves, but I’ve never been much of a liar, and the rain that follows is quite telling if I read in between the lines. And now I know why I’ve always loved thunder storms.


	2. Moment Two: Night Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moment No. Two: Thor comes to visit in the middle of the night, and a storm rages on outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe the drabbles are a bit related to one another, lol I cannot write a oneshot to save my life. Sorry XD

It is in the middle of the night when he comes back to visit. At first there was lightning, followed by roaring thunder as the sky split open with rain. The storm was full on raging now and he stood by my front door soaked to the bone, droplets clinging to his golden lashes almost like tears. 

He was silent as I let him in, his gaze locked on the floor and I wondered what had happened to him. His scarlet cape trailed rainwater across my floorboards and the only sound was the patter of rain against glass and roof. 

I approached him, placing a trembling hand against his cheek to make him look at me, to make sure that the broken man before me is indeed the god of thunder, I needed to see the blue of his eyes to reassure me that he was here and not just a desperate dream I made up in my sleepless state. I see a lock of black braided into his golden hair, just behind his ear and it was so subtle one could've easily missed it. I knew right then what had happened and so I didn't ask. 

His eyes bore through me like liquid flames and the only comfort I could offer was the small warmth of my arms wrapped around him. His brother had died, and he has nowhere to go but to me, because within the walls of my home everything seems so much more simpler, or so he once said. I allowed him this small sanctuary as he burried his face in the crook of my neck where it met my shoulder, he smelt of storms and dust and winter trees and I melted into him. I could feel the tremble of his lips against my skin as his tears soaked through my collar. 

There was nothing to say, words didn't seem enough and the silence was perhaps a welcome reprieve from all the chaos that he'd endured. I found my hand stroking that single braid of ebony and gold; intertwined like the fates of two brothers, and he wrapped his steel arms around me, bringing me closer until I am drowning in his heat and scent, until there is only him. 

"Shhhh..." I hummed quietly into his ear, trying to soothe the pain and the fear and the regret bubbling beneath his skin. I wanted to take away all of his aches, if I could suck it all into my own body I would.

"Are you really here in my arms, or are you just a figment of my own making?" His deep voice broke the silence but the rain did not stop, not even as he pulled away to look at me, his calloused thumb stroking the top of my cheek. He looked lost, and so incredibly tired. 

"I'm here, this is real." I whispered, I don't know why I did but the darkness of the night and the dim light coming from my kitchen gave off an atmosphere that called for hushed tones. My words seem to make his worries fall away even if just a little as his features softened. And I wonder if I said those words for him or for my own sake. 

"So much has been lost, my mother, my brother. I almost expected you'd have gone away from me too, my lady." He's lost so much that I do not know how to make it better. All I can offer is the fact that I am here, and that I don't think I'll ever be able to leave him, not when he needs me this much.

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere." I stood on my toes and kissed him on the cheek, just a brush of my lips against the corner of his mouth and I could feel the scruff of his beard against my skin and the solid press of his body as he leaned into me. 

There is so much feeling inside me, so much longing, and yet I push it all away because that is not something he needs to worry about, not now when his world is falling apart beneath him. He needed me to be a friend, a shoulder to cry on. I don't think I could be so selfish to push my own feelings into him when he is so broken. Or perhaps I simply did not wish to face his rejection, he has Jane after all, and yet why did he come to me. Why does he look at me with eyes that caress and covet. 

I pull away just enough to gaze into his eyes, looking for the answers I know aren't there, but there is only warmth and hope and pain in his pools of blue. He kisses my forehead with a sweetness and gentleness that one would not expect from such a large man. I offer him a place to sleep, in the guest bedroom across the hall and he looks at me for a moment before declining. He never stays. He said that Jane would be expecting his return and so he bids me a goodnight and leaves, the air crackling with static energy as he hurdles up into the stormy night sky. I watch from my window as the storm slowly passed, fading away to reveal the pale shades of dawn. But the storm could not carry away his presence as it still lingered within the walls of my house. The trail of rainwater staining the dark wood floors and the scent of winter trees on my skin.


	3. Moment Three: Cold coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moment No. Three: Thor and a cold cup of coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what screw the whole unrelated drabble shit, this is a multi chapter now. Yep, I am shit at sticking to a plan. And also I noticed a despicable lack of fanfics about my favorite God of thunder, and I plan to remedy that. lol

There is coffee growing cold on the living room table and a movie long forgotten still playing in the background as Thor sat on my worn couch talking about his adventures as a child. His eyes are bright and full of reminiscent joy as the screen casted blue and red over his face. I smile even wider than I thought possible as his laughter rumbled in his chest, the sound traveling from his quaking body and over to me through the contact of our shoulders, he always sits so close to me, closer than he should and far too close for me not to read into it too much. 

“Once, when we were children my brother transformed himself into a snake knowing that I love snakes,” He said with a wide grin and a wistful look in his eyes as he remembered his lost brother. “And when I went to pick it up he turned back into himself, yelling ‘Bah, It’s me!’ then he stabbed me, We were eight at the time.” I leaned my head on my hand, facing him on the couch, knees touching his jean clad thigh, observing the laughing god in my living room. 

There is still that single lock of black braided into his hair, still intertwined with his soul like the brother he so loved but could not save, but this time his hair is gathered into a low pony, stands of gold framing his handsome face. He looks better, still grieving but better. I must’ve been silently staring at him for too long because his brows furrowed and his grin disappeared. I always find myself lost in thoughts of him, even with him sitting so close to me.

“What is the matter my lady?” He asks, ever the gentleman. 

I shook my head, smiling fondly at him. “Nothing, I was just lost in thought.” 

“May I ask what you were thinking about?” He asks tentatively, too sweet and caring for his own good. Who would have thought that the god from legends of old worried about the thoughts of a measly mortal girl. 

“Honestly, I was thinking about you,” I sighed and took a sip of my coffee that has gone cold, it tasted bittersweet on my tongue.

“Me?” 

I nod, placing the mug back on the coffee table. “Yes, I was just thinking how happy I am to see you smiling and laughing again. I know you miss them terribly.” I explained, reaching out to touch the thin braid of black and gold behind his ear. His eyes show that he understood my meaning and he takes my hand, kissing the palm with warm lips. 

“I do, but somehow being here with you eases my mind more than it should, therefore I find that I cannot stay away for too long.” His eyes bore into mine, the blue pools stormy in the flashing lights of the TV screen. The scruff of his beard his rough against my palm as he cradles my hand to his cheek, my fingers automatically curving along the bone of his strong jaw. He smells like a brewing storm, cool and crisp, like autumn and winter before the snow breaks through the crimsons and golds. 

I draw away from him, allowing my lungs to fill back with air, unaware I had been holding my breath the entire time. We are on dangerous ground, I feel the tug of my heart towards him but I ignore it. I know he knows it too, sees how he slowly comes back to himself, probably remembering Jane and that what we have between us is purely friendship, or so we like to tell ourselves. “You are always welcome to my home Thor, if you ever should have need of me, I will be here. That’s what friends are for.” I meant every word, but there is a bitter taste in my mouth after they left my lips. I try to pretend his expression did not fall when I said it. 

“Of course, and if ever you shall have need of me, you only have but to call to me my lady, and I will come rushing to your side.” I nodded and stood from my seat, his questioning gaze prompted me to explain.

“The coffee has grown cold, I’m going to go make a fresh pot.” I said, hiding the fact that I needed the distance between us, I needed to break away from the spell binding look in his eyes and the disarming effect of his smile. He was too much, a god among men, and I was just a girl free falling into his storm.


	4. Moment Four: Good Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moment No. Four: Good Mornings: Good morning visits from a certain thunder god

He comes and goes with wind and gold chasing at his heels. He never stays, always called upon by someone or somewhere, and every time I am left wide eyed and wind-struck as I gaze up at the ever changing sky. Will I ever get tired of waiting, of looking up? I tell myself the world does not revolve around him, and yet the Earth spins in circles for the sun, without question, without doubt, and he is very much like the sun. 

We still laugh and smile, chasing rain clouds that never seem to leave, pretending for a moment all is right in the world. It’s not hard to play make believe with Thor, not when his blue eyes crinkle at the sides when he grins so wide it could split his face, not when he laughs like thunder, its effects contagious. We play like children, running down empty streets and drinking too much coffee than normal, because he likes it and I love the way he acts like a kid; endearing and soft despite the burden he carry upon his mighty shoulders. 

There are no stars tonight, only shadows dancing on my bedroom walls, grey and dark against the white. Thor often told me stories about the nine realms, each one connected by the branches of the father tree, Yggdrasil; he spoke of constellations and stars unlike the ones we see over Earth, of rainbow bridges that looked like glowing shards of glass and a place so beautiful with skies as blue as his eyes, Asgard. 

I sometimes like to imagine these places, clinging to every word he’d uttered, the wonder in his gaze sparking the wanderlust in my soul. I close my eyes, picture it in my mind and there it is, the vast expanse of the night sky, crowded with stars and exploding lights, colorful and deep like the galaxy. The clouds corded with far away lightning, dark and light swirling together to cradle the stars and moons in its palm. It is never ending, eternal and infinite in its entirety and beyond all that, a place of shimmering towers; the golden pillars of Asgard reaching up to the galaxies beyond. 

I’ve always been in love with the sky and whatever else may lie beyond, the everyday droll of living a far away echo as I allowed myself to get lost in my own fantasies. And in every wish or daydream he is there with me, solid and sure, unafraid and wild as lightning. And it is often in this manner I find myself succumbing to the pull of sleep. 

 

 

 

The room is bathed in pale grey sunlight, and the white walls of my bedroom is a stark contrast to the red cloth lying at the foot of my bed. The color seemed to bleed into the white covers, the bright scarlet telling me something I should know by now, something familiar, but my sleep-fogged mind could not grasp the information. I look out to the overcast sky, nothing but grey clouds as far as the eyes can see. I felt like I was swimming in a dream, everything whitewashed by the gloomy weather. 

The door opened and in walked the god of thunder himself, his sleeveless armor hugging his torso like a second skin, tailored to fit his broad shoulders as they tapered down to the slim V of his waist. I look back to the rich crimson fabric near my feet on the bed and back to the golden haired man by my doorway, and as if a switch had been turned on it finally clicked into place in my head. He’s here. 

“Good morning, did you sleep well my lady?” He inquired with his usual perkiness. 

“Thor…” His name sounding foreign to my ears when spoken through the haze of sleep still lingering in my throat. “You’re here.”

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. I used the spare key you showed me last time I was here.” He looked ready to leave if I ask him to, as if I mind his presence within the walls of my home, when in fact it is the complete opposite. 

“No, I don’t mind. I’m happy you’re back.” I shook my head and smiled shyly, trying to smooth out my mess of a hair with fumbling hands. “You’ve been gone for a while, but I should have expected it when you said there were matters you needed to settle in Asgard. How did it go?” 

“I have accomplished my task, and now I am forging my own path.” He said the words as he leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, his broad frame practically occupying the entire space. 

“What do you mean?” I tilted my head to the side, taking in his features and relaxed posture, suddenly he appeared so much more casual than all the other times I’ve seen him, as if a heavy burden has been lifted from his shoulders. 

“I told my father I no longer wish to be king, that I would rather be a good man than a great king.” A beat of silence pass between us, and the world is still for a moment.

So many thoughts rushed through my mind, memories of tales about Odin and Thor’s ever present wish to do him proud, his ambitions and dreams to rule as a fair and wise king. And then there were other dreams too, dreams of adventures and travel, of sunlight and cosmic stars, wistful daydreams of a family perhaps, and simplicity. A life of happiness, of time spent with friends and loved ones. These were all his dreams and wishes, the ones he’d told me about during the small hours of the night when he refused to leave me alone, when he seeks out this sanctuary I call home. 

“And are you happy?” I asked, it is the only question worth asking, and the only answer that mattered.

He stares at me for a moment, face unreadable and smooth. His gaze made my skin prickle with gooseflesh. “Yes,” He answered finally, and I let out a relieved sigh. 

“Then that’s all that matters.” He kneels beside my bed, took my hand from my lap and brought it up to his lips. I relish the feel of his skin against mine, his warmth bringing every nerve ending to life. I look down at him, for once I am the one at a height advantage with him kneeling so; carding my fingers through his unbound hair I sighed contentedly, the golden strands were soft as silk. 

“For the record though, you will always be a god among men, and you’d have made a great king too,” His eyes are even paler than usual in this light and I almost gasped at the sight of them, this close I could see every shade of blue, some I could not even name. “But I think you would make an even better man.” 

He smiles, genuinely smiles. “Only because you make me so, my lady.” 

Sometimes its funny how dreams often appear as reality, but I never would have expected it to be the other way around, because right now he is here and he feels very very real. Even as he leans his forehead onto the hollow of my throat, even after I close my eyes, he is still here, and for now that is enough.


	5. Moment five: Lady of the stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moment No. Five: Lady of the stars: Jane is a lady of the stars but Thor finds perfection in someone else.

I’ve never met Jane before, and yet I know an awful lot about the woman, the color of her eyes and hair, what she does for a living, her favorite food, and her love for the stars. Thor once said she is a lady of the stars, her eyes always caught up in the abyss of the night sky. The way he talks about her is beautiful, almost poetic and I smile and listen through it all, sometimes I wonder if there is a part of me that’s secretly a masochist. But despite all the stories I’ve heard from the god of thunder himself nothing quite prepared me for meeting the woman behind the name. She is a pretty little thing with warm brown eyes and fine graceful features, all elegant brows and high cheekbones. 

I feel breathless as if I just ran a marathon, and I try to steady myself by smiling shakily at the woman and taking her outstretched hand. I do my best to introduce myself with some form of grace and eloquence and stumbled through my words with a shy glance at her companion. Thor stood beside her, his hand resting on Jane’s shoulder as she talked about the exhibit, her excitement over the beautiful art pieces and our mutual friend who put together the entire show, it is called 'Lumieres lointaines'. It means distant lights in french. The whole art exhibit revolves around the stars, constellations and all sorts of heavenly bodies, and the name suddenly seemed very fitting. 

“Sorry, I know I’m babbling right now but I’m just so excited about the exhibit,” Jane smiled brightly, tucking a piece of hair behind one ear with her delicate fingers. “Thor told me so many great things about you but he’s never mentioned what you do, I hope you don’t mind my asking, I’m just curious.” She’s polite too, and I wonder how she’s so perfect. I can’t help the bitter tinge nipping at the edges of my heart. 

“No, its fine. I actually own and manage a bookshop, nothing big but I find it quite enchanting.” I thought about the tall arched windows of my late grandfather’s shop, passed on from generation to generation, shafts of sunlight peering through the shades and glass panes highlighting the dark wood floors as motes danced about the room; the smell of old books and warm coffee and cinnamon spice lingering thick in the air. 

“That’s wonderful, I love books, maybe we can swing by sometime to visit, plus I’m in desperate need of some new reading material.” Jane’s eyes were kind and hopeful and I almost resent how bitter I am, how selfish it is to want someone who already belongs to another. They’re happy together, like this with him by her side, her feminine beauty and obvious genius complimenting his godly stature. They fit well, and just the thought alone is enough to break my heart one more time. 

“Yes, that would be lovely.” I try to smile through the pain, and somewhere in between the curious looks from the god of thunder and Jane’s perky attitude I felt tears prickling the back of my eyes.

“Oh, sorry but I think I see an old professor of mine, excuse me for a minute,” Jane extracts herself from our small group of three and gives a fleeting glance at Thor and then to me, giving me an apologetic look before weaving her way through the crowd.

“My lady, it is such a lovely coincidence to meet you here,” Thor grins like a pleased pet, his large hand enveloping my smaller one bringing it to his lips to kiss the knuckles softly. A voice at the back of my mind keeps telling me to just leave, to walk away because this all seemed too perfectly arranged to be a happy coincidence, maybe this is fate’s way of telling me to stop, to move on because all of this is a lost cause, that he himself is just a Lumiere lointaines, a distant light. Like lightning, like shooting stars and meteorites, nothing but dead light. 

“Yes, I wasn’t expecting to see you here at all, or Jane for that matter.” I say quietly, almost to myself, but he undoubtedly heard it for his smile widened even more.

“Well, it is certainly a pleasant surprise,” I look into his eyes, the color seeming to glow beneath the soft lighting in the studio. “What do you think of Jane?” The tone of his voice is serious if not a little sombre and the question itself caught me off guard. I felt a lump form in my throat and I wanted to slap him, to scream at him and despite knowing none of it is actually his fault I still wanted to blame him, to cry and sob and wail for all the pain I felt and could not shake. 

“She’s perfect.” My words does not betray any of my heartache and yet something in his eyes tell me how much he knows, how helpless he feels in the face of all my agony and heartbreak, because there is nothing he can do to make it better. He nods his head slowly, whether as a response to my words or my thoughts I don’t know, but a heavy silence separates us, forming a distance with the inches between us that cannot be breached. 

The room is filled with the soft hub-hub of guests and patrons, the smell of incense and paint thick in the air as wine and champagne gets passed around on silver trays. The walls are dotted with artworks depicting the sky in different settings and time of day, shades of dusky pink transitioning to rich scarlet and iridescent purples as dawn surrendered to daylight, deep shades of Prussian blue fading into the black abyss of the night with stars bursting on canvas, and lightning splitting the sky into broken fragments of steel grey and cobalt. So many unframed canvases speaking in their bold colors the words my lips couldn’t utter to the man before me. 

“Is there such a thing as perfection?” He asks softly but this time I do not look up to meet his eyes, instead I focus my attention on the painting hung on the wall beside us, a small canvas covered in cool pale blue and at its center is a dying star with silver and gold stardust speckled on every corner. 

“At first I didn’t think so, but then you came around and changed my mind.” I wanted to touch the paint, to see if the scorching light of the dead star would actually burn my skin if I dared to come close enough. 

“I am far from perfect my lady, even gods have flaws.” I can hear the sad smile in his voice, the kind of smile he gives me when I talk about my distant dreams, dreams about lavender fields and cloudy skies with multiple moons at dusk, of a woman with long golden hair and a kind motherly face dressed in muted golds and trails of shimmering fabrics. A woman long gone from this world or whatever world she came from, with a wisdom far beyond that of a queen, and a heart that yearns for her two sons to be at peace. 

“You are not of this world Thor, you do not know what constitutes as perfection here.” I said, shaking my head. I see him staring at me intently in my peripheral but I refuse to meet his gaze.

“And you are made up of things that do not exist in this world, and yet here you are,” He sounds so sure of himself as he moves closer, his jean clad arm just barely brushing my shoulder. “Perhaps, we are each other’s definition of perfection.” 

I close my eyes, forcing out a shaky breath to keep myself from losing grip on my control, keeping the tears at bay. “I thought you said there is no such thing as perfection.” 

“You changed my mind.” There was enough cheek in his tone to actually make me look up at him, but the expression on his face did not show mirth or amusement, his pupils are blown wide, the blue is reduced to thin rings of azure against pitch black. I reach up a trembling hand, tucking a stray gold lock behind his ear and kissed the corner of his mouth, my spot, the one place I am allowed to touch. 

“I have to go, I’m sorry.” I whisper the words, sure that he would hear them nonetheless. I wipe away the dampness my unbidden tears left on his cheek and walked away hoping for the first time it would not rain as I made my way home beneath a star-filled sky.


	6. Moment Six: Spiderwebs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moment No. Six: Spiderwebs: A friendly visit from Natasha and some words of wisdom.

“You know, I don’t see why SHIELD insists upon keeping tabs on someone like me.” I said to the newspaper held up in front of the person’s face, before continuing on down the sidewalk. I tug my scarf closer, burying my nose in the warm wool. Autumn is already well on its way, the leaves are slowly turning in their vibrant green coat for warmer shades of gold and bright scarlet. The breeze is cooler too, nipping at the skin as the sun grows weaker with each passing day, the muted tones of the city almost mimicking that of a vintage movie scene. 

“We are not keeping tabs on you,” Natasha sidled up beside me on a stop light, the streets were suspiciously empty and quiet. I look at the woman beside me clad in a leather jacket and tight fitting jeans. “I’m here on a personal visit, ya know, like a friend.” 

“You could’ve dressed a little less like a spy if you were trying to go undercover or something.” I said, eyeing her leather getup, gloves and all, a hand gun strapped to her slim waist. “I immediately saw you like two streets away!” I laughed lightly, shifting the brown grocery bags in my arms. 

“I wasn’t trying to blend in, if I didn’t want you to see me, trust me you never would’ve known I was here.” 

“What do you want Nat?” I look at her expectantly, “You and I both know you never come to see me simply for some girl time, and I think it is pretty clear by now that I am not a threat against humanity and Thor is just my friend who happens to be a norse god, other than that I am nothing special, so what could you possibly get out of spying on me?” 

The look on her face is unreadable, blank and cool just like her porcelain features. “Thor hasn’t been back from Asgard for a few months and the reports say he hasn’t been visiting you as well, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” The concern in Natasha’s voice stunned me and it must’ve shown on my face so she explained further. “I did tell you we were friends.” 

“Well, so much for not keeping tabs on me,” I sighed but managed a weak smile. “But, thanks for looking out for me Nat, but I honestly couldn’t say if I’m okay or not.” 

She seem to understand enough that I didn’t need to explain myself. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around soon enough. I think he’s just trying to be careful, maybe he’s too afraid of risking everything.” 

The light takes forever and I stood shifting on the balls of my feet, unsure of how to respond. I don’t know how Nat figured it out so quickly, maybe I’m really that easy to read or perhaps its all those reports she mentioned that gave her an idea about my feelings for Thor. “He’s already risked everything for her, I don’t think there is anything left he could risk for me.” My voice sounds like a scream in the grey light of the silent midday, like glass breaking against stone. 

“No, he risked the throne for her,” Nat turned her piercing gaze on me, burning a hole in my soul. “But you, you’re everything to him, and I don’t think he’s prepared to risk losing everything in the aftermath if you suddenly decide to just up and leave.” 

Nat’s words shake me and I feel nauseous, afraid that her words would take root in my heart and bloom into new hope to torment me more in future days to come. “I’m not the one always leaving Nat, all this time I’ve been in the same place just waiting for the day he’d finally stay, but he never does and I am so tired of waiting.” 

“Hm,” Natasha hums as if she is deep in thought and proceeded to walk in the direction of my house when the light turned green, I followed suit. 

“What is it?” I ask, curiosity finally getting the best of me. She doesn’t answer, only looks at me with a weird look on her pretty face. “Just tell me Nat!” I snapped at her, exhausted from a day of being cooped up inside the shop and a series of sleepless nights. 

“Well, did it ever occur to you that he might never stay, he doesn’t belong to our world.” 

“I know that, that’s why I never pushed, never asked, never dreamed for too much.” I said sadly, and tried fumbling for my keys in my purse to hide my tears.

“Then, if you’ve always known he wouldn’t stay, why not just ask him to take you with him?” I shook my head, a tired and resigned sigh escaping my lips. 

“Because he has Jane, and if there is anyone he should be sweeping off their feet it’s her.” Nat rolled her eyes, all sass and tough love on the side. “Don’t roll your eyes at me Nat, save that for Clint, or Stark if he’s being annoying, but we both know I’m right, Thor and Jane just fit, and it's okay if it's not me, I’ll live.” I know the words sound hallow, even to my own ears. 

“No, it’s not okay. Jane doesn’t want to be swept away, she belongs here with her research and science, and she knows it.” The voice speaking to me now seems so uncharacteristically soft for Natasha, but I know she means well. ”But you, you are made up of things far greater than this world deserves, just because this is where you came from doesn’t mean this is where you belong.” 

I put down the brown bags on the porch and hugged Natasha, thanking her softly for her reassuring words and her friendship. “Thank you, you’re a great friend Nat.” 

“You know it kid,” She laughed softly, squeezing me briefly before pulling away. “Now, the next time he comes for a visit show that god of thunder what you’re made of.” 

“I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love Thor/Chris Hemsworth way too much. Also, I listened to Salvation by Gabrielle Aplin while writing for this fic, listen to it while reading, cause it sorta makes sense XD


End file.
